


someone could waste their whole life helplessly, just patiently waiting for a love like you and me (you still have all of my heart).

by anxiouspunk



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crappy Summary is Crappy, Developing Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life Compliant, I COULD tag all of their relationships with paris too but that seems unnecessary, Jealousy, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, a lot of the characters are just talked about though not actually in scenes, bc rory doesn't know she's doing it, but it's not sad or dark or anything trust me, but mostly sweet scenes, but near the end is when it’s canon divergence, for once in my life I follow canon pretty much exactly, it's not really fluff sorta.., or good enough anyway, secret pining, shoutout to my teenage self who still helps me remember old emo lyrics, so I feel I can't tag it as such, so that I was actually able to find a good title for this story!, title as sleeping with siren’s ‘all my heart’, ‘cause the main theme is gellmore so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouspunk/pseuds/anxiouspunk
Summary: paris has been paying close attention, uncharacteristically quiet as she watches rory.“..but, how will I know?”“you just..will. it’s like a gut thing; it’ll feel good and right and hopefully, seamless.” she assures, giving a gentle smile to the anxiously raw paris “..that’s the kind of person you’ll end up with. or should.”“...seems idealistic, and unreasonable.” paris decides, making rory sigh in defeat “and not the kind of thing that happens to me..”“fine then.” rory concludes, putting her attention back down to her sheets “if it doesn’t come to fruition, then you have my permission to come over and personally tell me I’m wrong.”“...and if I find him?..”“then you get a happy ever after and you have to tell me I was right. and you owe me twenty bucks.” she concludes as she flips her page, unable to help the curl of her lips. another scoff, though warm.“that’ll be the day..” paris mutters dryly, getting another quiet smile from rory, and, shyly, a diluted one from her too.-for years, rory sadly watches paris fall over and over for men who barely fit her and who barely see her.up until she can't watch anymore.
Relationships: Paris Geller/Rory Gilmore
Comments: 26
Kudos: 139





	someone could waste their whole life helplessly, just patiently waiting for a love like you and me (you still have all of my heart).

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> As you all know, I usually write from Paris's pov, but once in a while, I like to get inside Rory's head. And so I had an idea of what it would be like, for Rory to be getting the outsider's perspective of all of Paris's relationships and romantic interests (especially bc a lot of them are Not Great or scream of comphet). This one was a labour of love, bc it took me quite a while to finish, trying to figure out all the scenes and stuff but I finally got it together (also, now I can finally see how few words this is, which is embarrassing considering how long it took..).
> 
> So enjoy!

rory thinks tristan looks like a ken doll.

truly. she honestly expects, that if they weren’t wearing school uniforms, his shirt would match his shoes and he’d have accessories that were fashionable but not too girly which’d go with his obnoxiously white teeth. that, or he’s a cut-out from either a seventeen magazine cover or boy-band copy that’d come to life. and his smarts didn’t help this either;

that’s why it was so confusing that paris liked him.

rory simply doesn’t get it. and she’s tried, really, _honestly,_ to find what it was that would’ve brought paris to these feelings. tried to suss out any similarities between the two of them – in personality, in interests – and would come up absolutely empty. and she’s not trying to shame; if someone’s into bleach blonde and arrogance without the charm and next to no lights on upstairs, _fine,_ live your dreams. but somehow, she can’t quite buy onto the idea that that’s what paris wants. whip-smart, driven, passionate paris geller did _not_ seem like the type to go after a guy who was probably going to spend his life coasting off his good looks and preferred his girlfriends seen and not heard. 

not like she cared. that wasn’t it at all, no sir. rory had no interest in the heart-filled affairs of the girl who seemed out to put her head on a platter. she thought she made some ground at the concert – watching innocent excitement cross paris’s sharp eyes as she watched the show, how shyly she offered the _this has been the best night of my life_ and accompanying smile – rory was equally happy at thinking she finally broke through, but soon saw that it was going to take quite a bit more to get paris to stop breathing fire down her neck. 

maybe she could try again now, rory thought, as she was currently sat inside her english class. her, paris, and tristan, all sat together after medina had them get together into their groups to work on their projects; noticeably absent were louise and madeline though, both out for today. rory couldn’t help but feeling a bit better at that, because now, instead of paris and groupies ganging up on her, it was just her and paris, which she could handle at least somewhat better (without the background snipping anyway).

“ey! dugray!” paris slamming her fist onto the desk caused rory to jump in her uncomfortable plastic chair, yanking her out of the notes she was making “get it together! I’m not having you bringing down our grade because you can’t even grasp the attention span of a kindergartner!” 

rory followed paris’s glare, finding tristan leaning back  in his chair, caught mid-way with a paper airplane he was just about to send over to one of the other groups, which consisted  of his fellow meat-head friends. he was probably wishing he’d been placed there instead, and honestly, rory can’t say she disagrees – but unfortunately medina was smarter then that. 

“christ, take the stick out of your ass would you?” he rolled his eyes, letting go so his chair fell back down onto the floor “what’s the rush? you’ve had us making notes for thirty minutes now, we can’t take one lousy break?” 

“no, gilmore and _I_ have been making notes – I’ve been asking _you_ to read the playbook for research and you haven’t even dogeared a single page to look at! and _no,_ we cannot just _take a break,_ especially when you can’t even complete one simple task! do you even know what we’re doing?!” 

rory quietly shook her head to herself, looking back down to her notes to quickly erase a word. if paris really did like the guy, she sure had a weird way of showing it.

“would it kill you to relax for just a second paris? and have _some_ faith – I know all about this guy macbeth or whatever, we’re gunna ace it..”

rory blinked back at that, head rising up. paris was too busy dragging her hands down her face that she, surprisingly, got there first to say, 

“..it’s shakespeare.” 

“what?” 

“it’s shakespeare. william shakespeare, who wrote the play. macbeth is just a character that he wrote from the play of the same name.”

“and we’re not even doing that play!!” paris roared, causing some heads to spin over at them “I think you got it confused with the one your fellow bone-head friends are doing!”

rory resisted laughing. tristan furrowed at them for a couple seconds, where rory swore she could see the ‘...’ floating above his head. then he just rolled his eyes again and started rising out of his seat, confusing both of them.

“whatever, it doesn’t matter –”

“ _yes it does –”_

“and if you ladies are so smart, looks like you don’t even need me. so I’ll get out of your hair – but I’ll be back to collect some of those notes.”

he threw them one of those snarky grins and a wink, and despite paris being mid-threat (“if you think you can slack under my watch dugray –”), got up and slunk right over to his nearby group of friends. and then it was just them; her and paris and their sea of papers.

“god,” rory furrows, nose scrunching slightly “now, more then ever, _please_ don’t tell me you’re still into him..” 

while maybe holding out that paris would finally come around, she still probably shouldn’t have been surprised when  she just rolled her eyes  instead and seems to make a complete 180 from her rage seconds ago.

“despite the _clear annoyances,_ not everybody can be perfect gilmore.” she briskly flipped over page of her notes to start anew, eyes burrowed down “nor can everybody, every girl, can have a perfectly nice boyfriend with a well-sculpted body and gorgeous hair.” 

now it was rory’s turn to roll her eyes. of course paris would drop all those clear awful qualities just to argue with her. 

“dean’s not _that_ perfect alright, it was _your friends_ who really airbrused his picture when they couldn’t stop asking questions. and sure, no ones perfect, but I think there’s a much bigger ballpark to aim for between shooting for the stars and what you’re doing which is just...aiming for the back alley near the dumpsters, really..” 

“you know what gilmore, I don’t sit here and berate _your_ choices! –”

“yes you do –”

“well not your romantic ones! tristan is the ideal type for boyfriend material, between his good looks and –”

“please don’t say smarts.”

“and family background and all the other things you so ignorantly can’t see.”

“paris, you can’t _really_ think that –”

“yes I do!” she snapped her head up, daggered eyes and sharp teeth pointed towards rory who thinks she catches just the hint of panic in the dark eyes _“I_ like him and you’re just going to have to believe that!” 

“well I don’t!” 

paris blinked back, surprised by the  adamancy. rory hadn’t meant to be so loud but honestly she’s starting to hate all the fibbing she feels is going on; paris lying to her, possibly lying to herself, she’s getting somewhat fed up, an  aggravated furrow and back suddenly  straightened . 

“I don’t! I don’t believe it paris! because honestly, there’s no evidence to even _prove_ that he’s someone you’d like!”

“I don’t have to _prove_ anything to you gilmore!” paris challenged, despite the fact that that’s pretty much all she’s enjoyed doing since rory stepped into chilton “frankly, with every other girl around also chasing after him, _you’re_ the one being weird – you don’t think he’s handsome at _all?!..”_

rory’s brow pushed further together, leaning slightly past paris to get another look at him “I mean, objectively he is, but not in a real way – more like in a hollow, seventeen-magazine-model-knock-off way. kind of like zero calorie ice cream you know; on the outside it looks good, but it’s missing any substance on the inside to make you enjoy even one scoop.”

paris snorts dryly but this time, rory  _does_ see, just the slightest amusement light up the blonde’s face. it almost gets a smile on  _her_ face. 

“plus, he doesn’t even appear to be your type at all –”

“oh do tell me rory, who’s my type then?!..” 

“not someone who, during our geography class, thought the mona lisa was a _town in italy_ – that’s definitely not the guy! c’mon, paris, you’re way out of his league anyway!..” 

paris pauses again. this time though, it’s quieter, more of a gentle shock then being blind-sidedly bewildered. she sits there and stares cautiously at rory like she can’t believe what she said, timid but hopeful, and rory doesn’t know what it was she said that caused this; this silence and for her to do nothing but softly stare back in hopes paris will regain the ability to speak again. and when she finally does, it’s closer to a whisper. 

“I am?..” 

“yeah..” rory answers with complete aloof honesty, the kind that makes paris perk up because it wasn’t that polite, sugar coated answer you usually give when someone asks that kind of question “you’re smart, you’re passionate, you’ve got goals he could never dream to accomplish even if he had them – you deserve someone on your level, not someone standing twelve stories below you. I mean, he’ll be lucky if his parents money manages to scrape him through graduation.” 

this time rory gets a scoff  _and_ a smile, a brief flash as paris ducks her head and her sharpness softens for that rare second rory’s seen sometimes. now, she feels herself smile too.

“thanks..” paris mutters nervously, like she was almost afraid of bowing down that far enough to rory, but thankfully the brunette saw her efforts. at least she was trying.

“no problem..” she says, letting a silence settle over. different then the usual tight air bound with tension that stood between her and paris, and honestly, rory likes this better. with nothing left to say, she went back to her notes, figuring paris would probably want to stop dawdling and get back on task.

but paris wasn’t totally looking at her work; her fingers were flipping through the  pages of the worn playbook, but rory could distantly feel the stare from the corner of her eye continuously flicking back to her. she does this; watching,  gauging, trying to suss things out less she be caught off-guard, so rory just lets her be unless there’s another prompt –

“...who is he then?” 

rory’s head snaps up “huh?” 

“the guy. you said tristan wasn’t it, so who is?” 

“well, I..I dunno..–”

“ _you’re_ the one who said he wasn’t my type gilmore – so you must have some idea of what that is unless that was one big lie!”

resisting rolling her eyes again, rory takes in a deep breath. she tilts her head back, towards the ceiling and tries to collect her thoughts. another long pause, a stilled moment, where rory mulls and tries not to notice paris’s eyes searing a hole through her head. 

“..I mean, type – hair colour, build, specifics like that – that’s more up to you, but..you should be with the kind of person that fits you.” rory tries to explain, bringing her eyes to paris’s nervous ones “you like the same kind of books, and you talk about them all the time, not even realizing you’ve been discussing for two hours until way later. they know the kind of jokes you like to make, or don’t. they’ll debate with you in the way you always want to do and help you to pursue your dreams, even though you don’t need it. they’ll be interesting but at the same time it’ll be..easy, you know? you’ll know each other; it’ll just fit in a way that isn’t totally describable, but you’ll know it.”

paris has been paying close attention, uncharacteristically quiet as she watches rory. 

“..but, how will I know?”

“you just..will. it’s like a gut thing; it’ll feel good and right and hopefully, seamless.” she assures, giving a gentle smile to the anxiously raw paris “..that’s the kind of person you’ll end up with. or should.”

“...seems idealistic, and unreasonable.” paris decides, making rory sigh in defeat “and not the kind of thing that happens to me..”

“fine then.” rory concludes, putting her attention back down to her sheets “if it doesn’t come to fruition, then you have my permission to come over and personally tell me I’m wrong.” 

“...and if I find him?..”

“then you get a happy ever after and you have to tell me I was right. and you owe me twenty bucks.” she concludes as she flips her page, unable to help the curl of her lips. another scoff, though warm.

“that’ll be the day..” paris mutters dryly, getting another quiet smile from rory, and, shyly, a diluted one from her too. hmm. maybe it wasn’t going to be as hard to win over the blonde as rory thought –

the loud and buzzing bell broke right in,  signaling the end of class. like smoke, the quiet moment between them evaporated as students immediately started closing texts and graping their bags at the sound, with medina getting up from his desk to yell over the clatter, 

“alright, two weeks people! I’m expecting these renditions of your group plays to be so good they’ll raise shakespeare himself from the grave!”

rory scoffed, smiling slightly. she starting turning back to give some quip about how shakespeare shouldn’t hold his  _long dead_ breath for tristan’s friends group at least and maybe ask what paris is doing for lunch since madeline and louise were out – only to find an empty desk. in that .5 seconds of time, paris had collected her things and left, rory spinning over to catch just the tail end of the long blonde hair slipping by the doorway. she tried to ignore the sudden drop in her stomach. watching that nervous but true smile come over paris, she really thought maybe this time she was getting somewhere.

_fine,_ rory had to sigh instead of hoping paris will walk back in and tentatively look to her, _it’s not like you care, remember?_

so, getting up, she switched her books and texts in her bag for her copy of  _grapes of wrath_ and saddled in for another desolate lunch read.

-

“I puked.”

“what?” 

rory blinked back at paris, not entirely sure she heard her right. they were standing on the creaking gilmore porch, where rory thought she was seeing paris off after their study session (and impromptu discussion regarding their sexual lives with their individual boyfriends). didn’t look like things were headed that way though. 

“with jamie. after sleeping with him.” paris clarified, nervous eyes tentatively holding rory’s “I...didn’t tell you that, earlier..” 

“I..well..” rory stuttered, trying to let her brain catch up with itself. she pulled the door closed behind her to keep from her mom overhearing, and allowing herself to step a bit closer to the blonde. 

“look, I know you don’t have a lot of experience in the field, clearly, but I don’t think it takes a genius to decipher that this is bad, do you?..” 

rory sighs, drumming herself up into this conversation “well, it-it was probably just nerves paris –”

“but it was _after._ it was after I slept with him.” her words started to pick up in that slurred manner that signaled to rory her anxiety was rising “if I was so nervous about doing the deed, shouldn’t it have been beforehand?..” 

“well I..I don’t..–”

“he didn’t hear it, thank god, as he was asleep. but I just...I suddenly got so anxious, laying there with him afterwards, and I just..I just –..”

she huffed, words failing. rory shifted on her feet, watching  her – potential, as it seemed to change every week – friend.

“honestly paris, I just think it was nerves, over your first time, but you know, if you’re so hung up on it, maybe it’s worth it to look at your relationship with him and if you really like him or..–”

“why wouldn’t I like jamie?! he’s a great boyfriend!” 

“okay well I’m just trying to make sense of the puking! because you said –”

“but you like jamie well enough gilmore!” 

“sure! I mean, he seems really nice and everything..” honestly, rory felt like she’d like jamie more if there _was_ anything to jamie “but really _anyone_ is going to look good when you put them next to your only comparative point which is tristan!..” 

paris rolled her eyes again, of course “great, thanks for that helpful insight..” 

rory sighed again. at the end of the day, it didn’t matter how she felt about jamie; she knew that, and deep down, she knew paris knew that too. 

“well _do you_ like him?..” 

paris simply stood, a very uncharacteristic reaction. she stared out into the porch with that particular look, that kind of furrow of her brow, that rory knew meant business – but it wasn’t  her regular look of harshness. her arms, tightly wound around herself, started to slope down. 

“...he’s good to me. he lets me win arguments, and will listen when I go off the deep end again and become a rambling spew over something. he comes from a good family. he knows his books and history and everything else, so we do have things to talk about. he’s good-looking and was perfectly considerate for my first time, and frankly, with all these things accumulated, it should mean an ideal match –”

“but do you _like him_ paris?...” 

finally paris’s eyes snapped over, hitting rory’s immediately and rory felt her heart inexplicably jump into her throat. paris’s eyes seemed to grip her there in her spot on the doormat and rory couldn’t help thinking how sad those deep, storming browns were. how sad they often looked in the few vulnerable moments they weren’t raging. 

“...I really want to.” came the answer, much quieter. rory felt her body soften and couldn’t help the sad smile from following.

“..then maybe, without trying to tell you how to run your relationship, I think that’s something to think about. because this isn’t really fair to you paris..” she explained softly “and it’s _really_ not fair to jamie either..” 

silence held over, but rory saw realization start to crawl over paris’s expression. she sighs shortly, back to now tightening her arms around herself. 

“this sucks.” 

“I know..” was all rory could say, attached with a sympathetic smile, because it did. it did just plainly suck. paris simply gives her a nod and then takes a deep breath in, like she was trying to cleanse herself – either trying to shake off the fact she was sad or the fact they’d bonded some, rory wasn’t sure.

“well I should get going. thanks again..” she’s pivoted herself to start walking down the staircase, but turns her head back over her shoulder to give rory one last look which the brunette feels oddly heartened by “for...all of it..” 

“s’ok.” rory says, and then couldn’t keep herself from adding “things’ll get better par. not just regarding jamie, but with...you know, everything..” 

“well lets hope so.” came the grumble from the bottom of the stairs, and at that rory would’ve rolled her eyes and gone inside, but then she catches “because there’s no way in hell I’m going to tell you you’re right..” 

it takes a second but then the memory clicks, and rory scoffs in amusement “what about the twenty bucks?..” 

“losing twenty bucks I can take gilmore. but I’ll have my head put on a spike before I ever tell you you’re right!” 

a bubble of laughter comes out of rory. and paris was already across the driveway to her car, but she glances around to give a tiny smile to her – 

and rory finds herself beaming back, before she does finally slip inside.

-

rory kind of regrets choosing to go sit outside now. 

she shivers, running her hands up and down her arms, craning her neck up from where she was crouched on the sidewalk curb to the black night sky. sitting inside the emergency ward had gotten quite busy, with the ambulances wailing by and people rushing in and out the door, so she’d removed herself from the building, off to the side now where it was quieter. she hadn’t really thought about how cold it’d be, though. or how long she’d be here. 

and it’s been quite a long night, trailing after paris as she chases after a hospitalized asher and his doctors, trying to be the moral support. it wasn’t like that was the hard thing  though; rory’s done that plenty of times for paris, hoping to encourage her to believe in herself in the way she never did. but this time, it was much harder – because, for once, this wasn’t the outcome rory wants for paris. 

she’s been a broken record about it really. about the fact that asher was a professor and approximately an eon older then paris and how _gross_ it was and, the most outstanding fact of all, that he’s done this with other girls. plucked a girl out of the basket of fresh meat, the one who will drool after all his prestigious work and who has just low enough self-esteem to fall for his crap and who’s chest is still perky, frankly – _ugh._ and what caused the hot surge of rage to burn through rory, was that he thought he could pull this off with paris. and, what’s worse, is that it’s _working._

despite paris’s  adamancy, rory knows he doesn’t care. he doesn’t care about how smart she is; smarter then any male academic could paint himself to be and smarter then  _him._ he doesn’t care about her dreams and all the great things she’ll do and who she’ll be, just that she’s here right now, listening to him drone about his work. he doesn’t care about who her favourite author is and her hobbies and how funny she is. about how amazing she truly is.

this is why she hasn’t shut up to paris about the very urgent need to  _break-up._ paris loves logic and smart arguments, so rory tried to give pragmatic reasons, like how long this relationship was honestly going to last with a grand canyon age gap, or the fact that they’re probably going on different  trajectories in their lives. she bit her tongue on the other points, ignoring the pull to scream about how he  _doesn’t_ see her and he never  _will_ and he’s only going to until the moment she stopped having the body of a college freshman. she’s already lamented about it enough; to her mother, who, aggravatingly, didn’t share her frustrations. who seemed to find it rather  _funny_ as rory ranted about the grossness of it all and his decrepit age, joking  _he’ll always have paris._

and that terrified rory. that paris would still be hating herself that much to keep following him, that he would trap her well enough she could never figure a way out. or that he already had. 

it was what she was worried about right now, sitting on the stoop, pointedly alone. after giving it her last shot to tell paris this relationship was doomed and this was the moment to break away, she was surprised to see paris nervously meet her eyes and shakingly ask,  _wait for me? walk me home?_

rory thought maybe that was it. but as the night has been inching along, growing later and later, her hope had soon turned into an overlooming feeling of doom. paris should’ve been done now. it was getting late and she knew paris would wanting to be going home  by now. and if she wanted to leave him, she would be here now. 

rory swallows down the sudden lump in her throat, blinking back the sting of realzation around her eyes. well, no point in waiting around for no reason she guessed. she’s tried and tried but she knows, no one, not even her, can make paris do something she doesn’t want to. no matter how much she wished that wasn’t true.

she stood up, tried to clear her throat and dusted herself off. feeling like the dejected piece thrown away, she takes a small step off the curb and begins her desolate walk back alone –

“trying to ditch me here gilmore?” 

rory felt like the female protagonist in those cheesy romance movies her mom likes boo at by how quickly her heart dropped and she spun round – finding paris there, roughly five steps away and arms wrapped around herself. a great wash of relief she could almost be guilty at (but not quite) came over, meeting paris’s gaze – no smile for her quip, but when rory searched the emotional brown eyes, she couldn’t find the frightened anxiety from earlier. infact, despite appearing rather deflated and subdued, which is an odd thing enough to see on paris, she looked rather relived herself.

“no, it..you were just taking while..–”

“well firstly, you were the one who wandered off from the waiting room, causing me to chase you. and I...it just took a while, to say everything I wanted to say..” she sighed, staring down at the ashy pavement “and to reconcile my guilt, to tell a man already laying on a hospital bed because his heart stopped working, that I was breaking up with him..”

“you have guilt?” 

paris snorted. rory cracked a tiny smile. 

“I’m proud of you par.” rory spoke with clear honesty, because she was “you did the right thing..”

paris didn’t say anything, confusing rory. she instead stood there, arms around herself gripping tighter and glaring down at the sidewalk. altogether, the spot right off the busy emergency ward fell even quieter. rory could only hear the gentle late-night wind, how it brushed across her cheek and picked up the ends of paris’s hair. she watched her long-time friend, trying to gauge any kind of reaction, but felt too nervous to break the silence by speaking; it was as if the moment was being held.

“..do you remember, that time back in chilton..” paris muttered after an eternity of time “when tristan was being his perfectly moronic self, which made you denounce him and then you talked about who I’d end up with?...”

rory made sure to wait a couple seconds so her answer didn’t come out too fast “yeah?..”

“right.” her head came up now, fixing rory in that trademarked, straight-forward, cut-n-clear hard look “so where is he? cough him up gilmore. I’m exhausted.”

this deflated the sudden anxiety on rory’s chest, a quiet smile appearing and head ducking down. she took in a deep breath before she could answer, and surprised herself by how assured her voice sounded. maybe because she did really believe it.

“he’s right around the corner. promise...”

paris merely ‘hmm’d’, and by the look on her face, that maybe wasn’t the idealistic answer she wanted. rory watched her for a couple seconds more, until spotting something off. she leaned in and saw paris gently seize up, sharp eyes on her as rory’s fingers aim for her hair.

“what?..”

“just..”

oh so carefully, rory gently sunk her fingers into the blonde tresses. thin and soft, she pressed them back slightly to capture what she wanted between her fingerpads – the white lint ball currently stuck there. she could feel paris’s gaze still holding onto her, steady and soft – keeping her intrinsic sharpness but letting her continue because rory secretly knew she was the only one allowed to do this – was close enough rory could hear her breathing, stilted slightly.

after the prolonged handful of seconds, rory stepped away, flicking the white fluff from her hand.

“dust..”

paris’s nose scrunched up.

“ _great_ – of course that was there, probably came from those incredibly dirty vents. and what a perfect time to remember that all dust is just dead skin cells anyway! god I hate hospitals. can we go home now?”

a normal person probably wouldn’t have found anything appeasing in that grumbling, but rory couldn’t hide the wide smile blooming over her face. because _there_ was her paris. lethal-tongued and smarter then any old wrinkly academic hat and newly back on her feet, and asking to go back to _their_ home. back to their space and their unhealthy snacks and all of the add-ons paris has made on rory’s notes that she’s put up, and _not_ back to asher’s place.

paris was never going back there and rory can’t find a time she was happier to prove her mother wrong. 

“absolutely.”

-

this was so stupid. it was so stupid and so cheesy and so ridiculous, rory probably wouldn’t believe it  was happening,  except for the fact that she was standing right in the middle of it. 

it was raining. 

like, downpour kind of rain. the kind of rain that happens in dramas or romance movies right at the peak moment. the kind of weather, that was perfect for making this kind of  decision.

and truly, rory wasn’t sure how she got here. nearly some few months ago, she’d been sitting in a hartford cafe, one of those new ones with it’s minimalist architecture and fancy drinks that linger on the overpriced. after a promised catch-up, she’d been waiting on paris for only a few minutes until the doorbell had chimed and she spotted the blonde hair and sharp shoulders of the blazer, making her smile – and it only took a few more minutes after that until paris was showing her the very expensive ring on her hand. 

“oh my _god.”_

“I would’ve told you over the phone, but hearing the expression wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as seeing it.” her smile was wide and maybe a little proud, only dipping slightly in the silence “what do you think?..”

and rory didn’t know. all she did know, was that she felt her stomach sink through and couldn’t find another feeling through her surprise and bewilderment.

“I..I can’t believe doyle finally did it..” 

“I can. I mean, it’s not like it was truly a surprise – you know I’m not one to dawdle, nor beat around the bush, so we’d been talking about marriage for some time now. quite honestly, it was time he popped the question.”

rory tried to be good about it, asked all the questions that you’re  suppose to; how he did it, what he said, did he actually do the whole one-knee thing. paris was certainly not the mooney or sentimental type, so she didn’t  gorge on details, but rory didn’t miss the smile or the content warmth over the brown eyes as she foretold the story – all things rare for paris.

“it was nice, but it wasn’t showy, which was something I didn’t want and nether did doyle, an aspect I’ve always liked about him. neither of us want to waste time waiting around for the ceremony, so we’re wanting to do it in a few months – an early autumn winter, and we’ve even already booked with the syagogue.”

“that sounds great par..” rory tried to speak through the sudden needles jabbing at her throat “just like how you always wanted..” 

paris smiled  back.

“we’re not going to do a lot of the quote-on-quote traditional things, such as bachlorette parties and the whole bridesmaid and groom fiasco, as there’s no point nor any initiative too, but..” and that’s when paris grew shyer, nervously hopeful gaze meeting rory’s “given you’re my best friend and have been for years, I’m hoping..you’ll still gleam the title and be a part of everything..”

and despite the pins sliding through her throat, rory smiled perfectly “of course par, it would be but an honour..” 

so rory did it all; giving paris pointers on décor and colour schemes, accompanying her for the dress fitting to give the encouragements that she looked great as paris tore off nearly every one, soothed her through the random panicked phone calls that  maybe they were rushing things and  this was never going to work out – all while anxiety swirled in her stomach. rory, as always, was determined to play the best friend role the best she could and be there for paris, for it wasn’t about her. it just would’ve been a lot easier if she could ignore this ongoing dread. 

she couldn’t shake it, and it only seemed to be getting stronger; with every approval-check of the invitations, with every fitting she had to go to for her bridesmaid dress, with everything. it swelled and swelled until rory couldn’t ignore it anymore that this was  _wrong_ and not the life paris was  suppose to lead and even if doyle was her friend too, not who paris should be with. 

and it was that full-blown anxiety that had her suddenly driving the jeep all the way into hartford on the eve of the wedding, standing at the doorway of the about to be geller-mccaster house as the rain pelted on her and suddenly finding  a startled paris looking back at her that made her blurt, 

“don’t marry him.” 

“what’re you doing here?!” paris demands, stepping aside a bit to let her soaping best friend in “while not a bride, there’s still some prep and resting you should be doing! you have to be up at seven for god’s sake!” 

before rory could think about how to reply, paris suddenly stops in her tracks after shutting the door, a second bout of confusion washing over her face. 

“wait...what did you say??” 

“don’t marry doyle..” rory repeats, a bit quieter this time. 

silence. paris only stares at her and then her arms come up to cross. 

“..alright, for once you have me stumped gilmore – what kind of joke is this suppose to be a set-up for??”

rory sighs, trying to keep her confidence, running a hand to push the wet hair out of her face “I-I’m sorry to do this now, I just….I-I can’t let you marry him paris, I –”

“ _let me?_ oh, well, I had no idea my romantic choices ridded on your input gilmore!” paris sharpens now that she’s in the face of opposition, squinting at her “what’s the hell has gotten into you??..” 

“nothing I..I just...” rory glanced up, holding onto paris’s dark eyes and their familiarity, taking in a deep breath “..he’s not it, paris. I know he’s your friend and you like him enough but I –”

“what do you mean he’s not it?! how could he not be?!” paris defies and it’s honestly like seeing a flame start to build “it may come as a surprise to you rory, but I know him way better then you, and our relationship better then you! so you can’t just barge in here and tell me my future husband is no good for me –”

“well I know him too paris!” rory counteracts, ignoring that she should know better then try to match paris’s fire “I’m pretty familiar with doyle and maybe you guys are alike but it doesn’t mean he’s your _it,_ you know?! just because you have known each other for years and like each other enough that you might as well get married doesn’t automatically equate –”

“that is not _at all_ what – christ gilmore, what a time to finally grow a damn spine then when you wanna shit on my relationship! I reiterate, how could doyle _not_ be the right one?! we share the same interests and beliefs and want the same things –”

“and there’s nothing there right?! he’s a great friend but have you even thought about whether you _want_ him as a boyfriend or husband or it was just the most pragmatic choice you thought you could make?!” now rory was on a roll and could feel herself shaking a little, caught up in all the thoughts she hadn’t the nerve earlier to say or even think “don’t-don’t you remember how it should be? how _he_ should be, how he should just _fit_ and you should just know it instead of panic calling me all the time that this isn’t the right idea so you can’t honestly tell me that _doyle_ is –”

“you _have_ to be kidding me!” paris stomped forward to be face to face and despite being four inches shorter rory still flinched “you’re pulling _that_ one me?! we were sixteen then and didn’t know a damn thing! you were just spouting crap to make me feel better! we’re _adults_ now rory! and that means giving up some ridiculous idealistic fantasy of the perfect person! so I’d suggest you get better material to offer me if you wanna convince –”

“how about the fact that _I know_ _you better_ _then he does_ paris! I know you! and I know there’s nothing there and this is what you’re secretly freaking out but won’t address because doyle makes sense on paper and you’re too scared to let him go less there isn’t anyone else! right?!”

silence hit. paris doesn’t say anything and doesn’t do anything save for stare back at a heaving rory, gaze frightened and harsh and  _mad._ _that’s it,_ rory thinks as she watches panic cross under paris’s anger,  _I knew that’s what she’s been thinking –_

“...I know what this is.” paris hissed “you wanna drag me down with you.” 

rory blinks back, completely thrown “what??” 

“all through our adolescence gilmore, we had all these trials and tribulations with romance. but now suddenly, I’m the only who’s managed to snag a steady partner and is ready to make it binding – while _you’re_ still involved in some closeted affair with huntzberger who at any day could drop you to marry that upper-class girl his family is pushing onto him!”

rory stills, a mix of anxiety and anger rising in her stomach “..I’m going to say it again –  _what?!”_

“admit it! you can’t stand the fact that I’m the one in a happy and healthy relationship; the friend who’s always been unlucky in love while you had men aplenty traipsing after you, I ended up with someone and now you have no one to wallow in your pity party with you! so you’re only plan now is sabotage! _actually,_ now that I think about it you’ve _always_ been doing that – saying the guy is no good for me, there’s something better, some bullshit wrapped up to seem like a compliment for me so that way I drop him and can be your woeful single friend!”

“..oh my god that is _so not_ what this is about!” rory spat back, straightening herself up to paris “nor is it even about logan either! I know he’s suppose to be betrothed to that girl so I finally called it off a while ago and haven’t seen him since, _you know that –”_

“oh, I’ll believe it when I see it gilmore! because when you came sniveling and crawling back to me after he threw you away for all those bridesmaids, you wouldn’t even open the door to him and now here you are! don’t you dare tell _me_ about ending up with the ‘right’ guy who’s suppose to treat you well!!” 

“ _this is about you paris!”_ rory screams when she hadn’t even meant to, already feeling water pooling around her eyes “I’m here because of you! like every one of those times you’ve tried to follow a guy who’s barely worthy of knowing you!”

“well no one _asked you to be!”_ she snaps forward and rory shrinks back down “whether it’s sabotage or you think you’re doing something valiant rory, I don’t care! I didn’t ask for you to constantly debunk my own choices or for you to stand here insulting my partners, and especially my fiance! in fact, if this is what you _really think,”_

paris’s arms folded and her gaze hardened as her voice suddenly sharpened from rattling anger to  another hiss,

“then you don’t have to come. actually, I don’t want you there _at all.”_

despite that rory should've probably seen this coming when she dared this, she couldn’t help her stomach sinking in. something trivial like being uninvited was one thing, but it was the fact that paris has been at her side since she was a teenager and had wanted  _her_ though this big event and that her words were dripping in poison – that was what had rory feeling like everything was coming down. 

because paris was pushing her away. because the anger wasn’t the same high-and-mighty dislike like when she used to hate her, but a bleeding  betrayal that had the cold silence gripping the room and paris’s storming eyes looking almost as glossy as hers. 

because it was.

“ _..fine.”_ rory spat back but it faltered when her voice broke, turning abruptly on her heels “but he’s not your person paris and you’re going to regret lying to yourself enough to go through with it..”

“you know what, _I’ll hold my breath.”_ paris followed her of course, snapping pointed teeth at rory’s back as she marched to the door “and your argument skills have been _slacking_ rory because you’ve still failed to tell me who the hell else it would be!” 

“I’ve already _said –”_

“ _no,_ you’ve given me a bunch of romantic platitudes about ‘the one’ like this is a low-grade romcom! so tell me _gilmore –”_

rory has a trembling hand around the doorknob and the door pulled open but she can still feel paris nipping at her and begging for a fight and her anger and distraught are broiling  so that it only takes one more swing –

“ _enlighten me by revealing who in this world would a better fit to want and marry me then –”_

that she spins around with crying and earnest words she didn’t even register –

“ _I don’t_ _know – maybe me?!”_

paris  stops. all anger and hurt and snarling dropped right off her face. the rattling house all together fell into a frightened silence.

rory starred right back, wide-eyed. she couldn’t believe she said that. she didn’t even mean to say that. she hadn’t even been  _thinking_ it. 

but there it stood, out in the open of the desolate quiet. right in between the two best friends who could do nothing but stare at one another, completely shocked for the same reason. and then, it didn’t take long for it to register to rory. not as she could feel the droplets slipping from under her eyes and the sudden panicked clarity spreading in her now that the words were spoken. 

just why she was here to say doyle wasn’t paris’s fit and why she was there saying asher didn’t see her and why she was there telling her she shouldn’t be with jamie and why she was _always there._

oh god.

rory spun back around and raced down the outside steps, nearly tripping. she hears a ‘rory!’ barely audible over the pelting of the rain but didn’t dare look at paris. her best friend who, if she didn’t already hate her, certainly did now. 

instead she runs until she reaches the jeep a couple houses down. she scrambled into the front seat and slams the door closed and only then does she allow herself  a breath – stuttering, gasping ones, barely able to get them out, sitting there dripping onto the seat fabric and the rain globs hitting the roof over her. 

_oh god._

she didn’t sit there long before the anxiety fizzled out and the unspeakable distraught rose through her throat and sobs spilled out without forethought. rory curled into herself, palms pressed over her face to try to hide the tears running down her already wet cheeks, and the collapsing breaths the only noise besides the pelting rain thundering around her.

it really was a stupid fucking cliché.

-

“you sure you don’t want to go? pull a _speak now or forever hold your piece_ kinda thing?”

rory smiled tightly, hands wrapping around her cup of coffee. she suddenly felt like a teenager all over again; hold up on the couch in her lazy clothes as she lamented everything to her mom over what happened. her tears were dryer now in the morning, but the sullen feeling was still sitting in her chest. 

“no..” she sighed, starring down her mug “I think I’ve done enough irredeemable damage towards paris this time..” 

“don’t call it in yet kid. she could still come around.” 

“after I just called her engagement a sham and potentially declared my love for her? how?”

“well, for one, you’re her only friend so she can’t afford to be picky –”

rory resisted rolling her eyes. 

“– and secondly, there isn’t an argument you two haven’t come out of. you never really know what paris will do, you know? she’s unpredictable like that. so I wouldn’t totally rule out her coming over to amend things.”

_every_ _argument so far,_ rory thinks to herself. she says nothing though, continuing to furrow down at the last reminents of the creamy, light brown drink swimming at the mug’s bottom. she just didn’t know what to do. she saw from the corner of her eye, her mom tilt her head at her, sympathetic eyes watching her carefully.

“..you still think she’s gunna marry doyle?”

“probably. she’s thought it through this far, and if paris likes to do anything, it’s get the occasional spiteful revenge on me.”

“..and what’re you gunna do?..”

rory furrowed deeper. and she gripped onto her drink tighter. she didn’t know. her mom lost her smile, gaze becoming pointed. 

“..did I ever tell you about the time paris ambushed me and luke in an upset?” 

finally, rory glanced up “what?”

“I don’t think I ever mentioned it; it was during that time you were off and resisting yale. she stormed right through that door like she loves to do, demanding that we get you back to school – because she needed you there. said you were the one who kept her pushing to achieve her goals and that you had to be there less she fell off the horse, how you listened to her and have been there the whole time. said, and I quote, that without you she’ll ‘fall apart.’..”

no. rory did  _not_ know that. nor did she know how to take in that news. that sullen feeling on her chest suddenly squeezed  at her heart. lorelai didn’t wait for an answer, simply smiled back sadly.

“just..before you think she’s done with you entirely..”

rory still couldn’t find any words to say, this clash of hope and awful heartache swelling in her – so it helped that the phone rang.

lorelai swung her legs over the couch, getting up and giving a kiss to rory’s head before walking  off.  rory sighed again. already feeling lonesome on the couch, she decided to get up too. she aims her direction to the kitchen, thinking if there was at least any more coffee left maybe that’d help –

there was sudden, loud pounding on the door. rory stopped, brow bunching together. she pivoted and moved towards the doorway, placing her cup temporarily on a random side table, and wondering what it could possibly be that would induce such urgent knocking (or, mostly likely, what kind of town  shenanigans).

only to be utterly floored in what she found. 

“ _..paris?”_

and it was paris. it was paris standing on her porch, glowering at her with a bizarre mixture of anger and panic (although, standard for her, rory would later think). her hair was styled nicely and she quite clearly had her make-up done, but at the same time was wearing  only  worn-in jeans and an old purple hoodie. rory didn’t know what to do with all of this information at once. 

“I’m supposed to be getting married.” are the first sharp words paris spoke “I’m suppose to be getting married right now. I’m suppose to be wearing that stupid restrictive dress and walk down the aisle with everyone staring at me as I break into a sweat and contemplate running away until I remembered how much it cost to rent it in the first place. I’m suppose to take doyle’s hand and promise to have and hold and other nonsense like we’d been talking about for months and I’m _not_ doing that.” 

“paris w-what –”

“instead I woke up with a sense of great dread, chased out all the expensive stylists I hired out of my bathroom and literally climbed up out the window! I went out the _window rory_ and I bruised my leg trying to land and it’s all your fault!” 

“par I-I’m sorry –”

“also,” 

suddenly rory felt her wrist being snatched and tugged forward and then something thin and crumpled was stuffed in her hand.

“here.” 

it was a bill – a somewhat wrinkled twenty, folded all up in rory’s palm. 

rory knew she didn’t have a right to feel this way – didn’t have a right for a hot flash of indigence to run up her spine, for her brow to furrow and lips angrily tighten. but it happened anyway, words falling out in the rare  hard tone as she stared paris head on, 

“ _c’mon_ par – look, I’m sorry I shook your confidence this badly, but you _cannot_ try and say that doyle is _the person_ because he’s not and I refuse to believe it –”

suddenly, there was a warm palm over her cheek and she felt herself getting pulled in – and then, altogether, paris was kissing her. 

shock held onto rory for she wasn’t sure how long, probably just a second, where all she could do was  let paris’s soft lips firmly claim hers and note the faint taste of morning coffee. and the sole thing she could think of, was that moment in florida; when paris feverishly grasped her and urgently kissed her to get rid of that fleeting panic that she was somehow ‘failing’ at spring break. how it was rushed and ill-timed and how she squirmed away, angry at paris for causing this sour feeling of being used in her.

and how this was absolutely not that. how sure it was and how much more purpose it held and how paris’s hand slipped almost effortlessly around her waist and how _of course_ paris kissed by grasping onto the other person – but instead of the frantic leap paris made before, her hand cupped rory’s cheek oh so carefully.

and this time, she didn’t pull away. because her brain finally caught up with herself and a sharp spark hit her chest and she gripped tight onto paris’s sweater with surprising strength – and opened herself into the kiss.

however by then paris was leaning away, a short breath coming out as her lips pulled off rory’s. rory didn’t dare let go though, terrified that this might mean paris is going to perform her  trademarked panic-and-freak-out over what she did, and she couldn’t risk that. couldn’t bare to let her go yet. but, miraculously, paris  _didn’t_ step away; instead she stood there with her, the both of them pressed up close and breathing shallow and  not daring to look the other in the eye. after a while, rory couldn’t stand the anxious silence, breaking it with a shaking and confused gasp,

“paris..I..”

“don’t make me spell it out for you gilmore..” paris mumbles, lips nearly grazing hers and tone low enough for just a hint of sarcasm. she’s kept her head down until now, when the powerful brown eyes flick up and hit rory’s and it was like the world was put to colour.

a couple more seconds and then suddenly a smile pulls over her mouth. rory can’t help the gasping laugh that suddenly spills out of her and at this point she isn’t sure if she wants to start crying or continue to laugh.

“I just...I..” she takes in a breath “...I’m _him?..”_

paris snorts, the shy smile pulling over that rory knows she’s trying to push down but she loves to see. she can’t help another somewhat delirious, shaking laugh either, forehead bumping into the blonde’s. but then she looks back at rory; back at her in a way that made her want to stop laughing.

“yeah..” paris answers softly, the kind of warmth that was only ever for rory, thumb smoothing along the pale jawline “..I-I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out..”

now rory’s smile pulls wider. she can’t help leaning into the touch, leaning into paris’s space.

“me too..” this was when a smile crept up “...however, I _do_ remember there being something else along with the twenty bucks that you should be telling me..”

paris’s face immediately sharpens into that stubborn furrow and rory has to physically bite down on a laugh.

“frankly gilmore, I don’t think that bet was binding..–”

“something about me being..– what was it? –..correct? right? –”

“if I kiss you again, will you drop it?”

rory pauses. part of her wants to bug paris a little more, just nit-pick at that easily ignitable flame a little longer; there’s only so many time she can rub her formal rival’s nose in it you know?

but paris is standing right here in her doorway, where rory figured she’d never storm in again. one hand secure around her waist and the other warm as it cupped her jaw. and the familiar browns are watching her, looking right at her heart, in the way she only recently realized she wanted paris to look at her for forever. and she can feel the bill, crumpled up between her fingers as she grasped onto the purple fabric.

another smile pulls over; softer and wider.

“that’ll do it.”

so paris leans in again, a bit gentler this time, hand cupping her face and lips pressing over her own. and now rory had the moment and prep to tighten her grip on paris’s sweater and tilt her head a bit and finally kiss her back in the way she actually wanted to.

the way paris deserved to be.

**Author's Note:**

> In my original idea, I actually wasn't going to bring up/intertwine that 'bet' that Rory and Paris made; it was just going to be in the first scene and the last, but I love a good Motif(tm), and so it ended up flowing into the whole story. 
> 
> Either way, hope you enjoyed that! Y'all know this drill; kudos and comments are great - I especially love hearing from all you regular gellmore commenters and talking with you, you're all so sweet ^^ And as always, I can be found on tumblr.


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